Take My Breath Away
by MusicLover713
Summary: Set just after 3x19: Prom-asaurus. Rachel and Quinn have some confessions for each other. Among them: feelings, prom queen, wheelchair flipping, etc.
1. Chapter 1: Who Could Love Me?

**A/N:** First Faberry fanfic. First fanfic ever. SPOILER ALERT: This occurs right after the end of 3x19: Prom-asaurus. You have been warned. I wanted to crack something out after all the Faberry feels, and here we are!

**Disclaimer:** Unfortunately, I do not own Glee or its characters. If I did, Faberry would be more in-your-face than Finchel and Klaine combined.

**Word Count:** 1,589

**Take My Breath Away**

**Chapter 1: Who Could Love Me?**

Rachel pulls away from Finn's lips. She knows she should feel happier to be in the arms of her fiancee, but all she _really_ wanted was to talk to Quinn. She feigns a smile to Finn, and whispers, "Thank you for a lovely dance, Finn Hudson." Finn smiles back and leans in for another kiss. Rachel, however, steals a glance towards the stage, where she sees Quinn frowning and collapsing back into her chair. Rachel shifts away from Finn to watch her wheel herself to the bathroom. Rachel couldn't be sure, but she thinks she can see tears glistening in Quinn's brilliant hazel eyes. "Finn, I need to talk to Quinn," she tells a confused boy. He looks foolish with his chapped lips puckered like that. Rachel's eyes furrow. _He's my fiancee. Shouldn't I love his chapped lips?_

Rachel huffs and jostles her way through the crowd, trailing after Quinn.

xxx

Quinn sniffles and dabs at her eyes. She had everything she thought she ever wanted: she earned the title of Prom Queen, just like her mother and sister before her. Regardless, standing (really, truly _standing_) up on that stage, looking down on Rachel and Finn's lip-lock, all she felt was a twisting in her gut. Her legs tremor briefly, so she leans her weight on the sink before her. She clears her throat and speaks to her reflection in the mirror. "You did it, Quinn Fabray. You stood up on that stage. You gave up the crown to someone who... someone who deserved it." Quinn's voice cracks.

Rachel heard Quinn's discussion with herself, and she was confused. _Quinn... gave up the crown? For me?_ She steps into the room, letting her reflection shine in the mirror. Quinn, seeing Rachel behind her, whirls around in astonishment.

Rachel smiles. It's the soft smile, the smile reserved for Quinn Fabray, and only Quinn Fabray. She whispers, "What were you saying, Quinn?" The blonde gapes, fishing for words that do not come. "You gave up the crown for me?" Quinn swallows down the lump in her throat and sighs.

"Please don't be mad, Rachel. Please..." she pleads. Rachel's eyebrow furrows.

"Quinn, why would I be mad?"

"I... I lied to you. I... Rachel, no one voted for you." Rachel's face falls. Quinn continues as she returns to sitting in her chair. Standing is tiring. "Well. There was one person. But she's not important. Anyway... Rachel, you deserved to win. You... you are the one person on this Earth who could _possibly_ forgive me for... for all I've done to you. And not only have you forgiven me, you've let me into your life, let me be your friend. I am... so honored to be your friend, Rachel Berry. And... Finn is so honored to be your fiancee. I hope he knows that. I hope that you know he wants you. He doesn't want me. He wants you. Who wouldn't?" Quinn rambles. Only after her monologue is complete does she realize how much she sounds like Rachel Berry.

"Quinn..." Rachel sighs. "First of all... who voted for me?" Quinn laughs at Rachel's childlike curiosity.

"Rachel, she doesn't matter," Quinn deflects.

"It was you, wasn't it?" Rachel quips. Quinn blinks rapidly. "It was, wasn't it?"

"How did you–?" Rachel cuts off the rest of Quinn's question.

"I know you, Lucy Quinn Fabray." She smiles the "it's Quinn Fabray" smile and asks the next question on her list. "Do you think Finn... is he right for me? Does he... does he know how honored he is?" Quinn laughs a short, sarcastic bark.

"He doesn't, Rachel. He doesn't know. I don't think so. Tell me, Rach, does Finn ever tell you you're beautiful?" Rachel nods.

"When we were dancing, he called me sexy, then beautiful. Does that count?" Quinn shakes her head. Rachel marvels at the blond tendrils of hair falling in front of those hazel eyes.

"Not exactly. Rach, he should call you gorgeous. Stunning, breathtaking, sensational, beautiful. Because you are." Quinn blushes, and Rachel ducks behind her hair.

"Quinn, Finn probably doesn't even _know_ half those words..." Both girls pause and laugh at the statement. Rachel watches Quinn's lips, which are not at all chapped, as they pull back to reveal perfect teeth. "Do you really think all those things about me, Quinn?" The blonde tries to hide the "it's Rachel Berry" smile, but fails.

"I do indeed, Rae. Among other things..."

"Quinn, why do you think no one wants you?" It was a question heavy on her mind since Quinn mentioned it.

"Look at me. I'm in a wheelchair, and–" Rachel cuts her off. Again.

"But not for much longer! You can stand, you can walk! You don't need a wheelchair!"

"And you don't need Finn!" The words tear from Quinn's lips before she can stop herself. The eyes of both girls widen at the statement.

"Quinn–"

"No, Rachel. You don't deserve to be stuck with that oaf. He'll hold you back. You two fight all the time, and he calls you _sexy_ before he calls you _beautiful._ He... he doesn't even _know _the meaning of the phrase _aesthetically appealing_, even though he's _engaged _to _you_, the epitome of aesthetic appeal, and–"

"And _what,_ Quinn, do you think _you_ would be better for me?" Tears are slipping freely down Rachel's face, though she manages to keep her voice in check. "Do you think _you_ could put up with me? All my idiosyncrasies? My obsession with Broadway? My over-excessive talking? My _Jewish nose? _My _man hands?_ My– mmph!"

Quinn ditches the idea of verbally interrupting her again as she rises from her chair. She kisses her.

Rachel is in sensory overload mode. Quinn's hands are around her waist, Quinn's hair is brushing her cheek, Quinn's lips are covering hers. Rachel kisses back. _Quinn's lips are so much better than Finn's..._ With that thought in mind, she pulls away, gasping, from Quinn, who stumbles briefly at the imbalance.

"Quinn! W-what was that for?" Rachel shrieks. If she were honest, her cheeks still burn, lips ache to reattach themselves to Quinn's, and her heart is racing. She tries to push the feelings down and pull up outrage and coldness. (Perhaps she _is_ becoming more like Quinn...)

"I'm sorry, Rae. It was the only way I could think of that would make you stop talking so much about stupid things," Quinn answers. "Do _you_ have any idea what _you_ mean to _me_?" Quinn questions, flipping Rachel's earlier comment from the hallways back at her. "You're everything _I've_ always wanted to be. Confident and proud of who you are. Beautiful in a natural way. Do you remember our duet, Rae?" The brunette swallows.

"I Feel Pretty/Unpretty. What about it?"

"I sang it because you are so beautiful, Rae. Beautiful in a natural way. I have to change everything about me to be beautiful, but you just _are_.You are beautiful and talented and self-assured and courageous, sweet, kind, honest, forgiving, ambitious, and you do _not_ have man hands."

"How would you know, Quinn? You don't hold my hands very often." Quinn resolves to correct that by weakly stepping closer to Rachel and taking her hands, trusting Rachel to help carry her weight.

"Usually, the giant has your hands and your heart held captive," Quinn murmurs. Her hypothesis was correct, Rachel's hands were smooth and soft and warm. They made Quinn's own hands tingle.

"That's not true," breathes Rachel. Quinn raises an eyebrow, the classic Fabray movement, daring Rachel to explain her statement. She doesn't, and Quinn decides to let it slide. For now.

"Rae, you were going to marry him. If he doesn't have your heart, then why would you marry him?" Quinn questions, skimming her thumbs over the backs of Rachel's hands. Rachel quivers before huffing.

"Who else would marry me? Who else could love me?" Rachel's eyes begin to water. Quinn makes a strange sound in the back of her throat, somewhere between a grunt and a snort. _Somehow, _Rachel thinks,_ that noise is incredibly sexy... Wait. What?_ Quinn's hazel eyes are staring into her own.

"I could. I do. Rachel Berry, I lo- I like you."


	2. Chapter 2: You Could Be It

**A/N:** ANGST, ANGST, ANGST. Sorry, guys, this is so angst-y. BUT! Quinn DOES reveal something that Rachel didn't know. Hopefully, I'll get some more of those secrets injected into this story.

**A/N 2: **A dedication and a thank you to funvince for unknowingly helping me begin this chapter! I hope I answered your question. Thanks to everyone who commented and yadda yadda yadda. Much appreciated. Your support makes my old Faberry heart tap dance.

**Disclaimer:** Unfortunately, I do not own Glee or its characters. If I did, Faberry would be more in-your-face than Finchel and Klaine combined.

**Word Count:** This Chapter: 1879. Total: 3468.

**Take My Breath Away  
Chapter 2: You Could Be It.**

Rachel gapes. "Quinn..." The blonde holds up an elegant hand, halting her speech.

"No, Rae. I've... cared about you for a very long time." Quinn sighs. She pauses to gather herself. Quinn shuffles unsteadily to her wheelchair, collapsing into it. She had been standing up since she and Rachel kissed. Her lips tingle at the memory. Even then, she had to lean heavily on anything in reach. Rachel, unable to contain her curiosity, interrupts Quinn's thoughts.

"Since when did you call me 'Rae'?" The brunette tilts her head. Quinn blinks in reply.

"Erm. Since, I don't know, tonight..." She shrugs.

"Why?" Rachel questions without skipping a beat. Quinn pauses, trying to collect her thoughts.

"...I just. Calling you Rach is just easier. Not that I don't love your name, I just..." Quinn blushes, ducking behind her golden tresses. "I just thought that Rach is easier. And then I remembered that... that Finn calls you Rach too. And I figured... Finn has you. He has your heart, your hands, your world. I thought that if I called you something else, something like Rae, that could... that could be my name for you. Something of yours that could be totally mine; only mine." Quinn exhales quietly, and tucks her hair shyly behind her ear. "Can you understand that?" Rachel, dazed, bobs her head.

"Sure. But... But _why?_ Why would you want to... to have something of mine?" Rachel questions, incredulous. Quinn chuckles.

"I told you, Rae. I like you." Quinn smiles, wheeling herself closer to Rachel. The brunette shakes her head.

"Quinn, you can't." Both girls are struck with the memory of how, in this very bathroom, Quinn had said the same words to Rachel, warning the bubbly brunette to wait to marry Finn. The blonde tilts her head in confusion. Rachel clarifies, "You _can't_ love me. We've been enemies from the very beginning, and it's only recently that we established a friendly relationship. You... you can't just tell me you love me when I'm getting married to Finn!" The brunette desperately tries to call her fiancee to the forefront of her mind, but, as always and as ever before, Quinn's smiling face is all she sees.

"Rae, I can and I do like you. I've liked you for a long, long time." She clears her throat. "I've liked you since the very beginning." Quinn wheels another step closer, an arms length apart. "I know you're probably–"

"Shocked? Surprised? Confused? Conflicted? Incredulous? Speechless?" Rachel supplies. Quinn giggles.

"Maybe not _speechless..._ But, yes. Maybe you're all those things. I don't know, Rae. You tell me," the blonde begs. Rachel sighs. Brown eyes lock with hazel, and Rachel can't help but notice how captivating Quinn's eyes really are.

"Quinn... I'm confused. I'm uncertain. I thought you and I were friends. I didn't... I didn't expect _this..._ Besides, why are you telling me these things _now?_ I'm getting _married, _remember?" Quinn sighs. This conversation is draining.

"How could I forget, Rachel? I nearly _died_ trying to stop you from making the biggest mistake of your life!" This triggers something inside Rachel, and she snaps at Quinn. The brunette begins to pace the bathroom floor furiously.

"Oh, I understand now, Quinn! This is all part of some elaborate scheme against me, isn't it? You plant the seeds of doubt and questioning in my mind with your love confession out of left field, then you guilt me into believing you by reminding me of your accident, which, believe me, has never been far from my mind. Then... then what, Quinn? You steal me away from Finn, the only future left for me, turn him against me, then you turn around and drop-kick me out of your life, and turn everyone else against me? Is that what you plan on doing? Taking away my one chance of having a future, a life outside of Lima? Because I'm on to you, Fabray. I get it. You haven't changed one bit. I thought you grew up, you matured. But evidently, I was wrong!" Rachel turns to glare heavily at the blonde. Brown eyes take in the sight of a quietly-sobbing Quinn Fabray, and the rage that once filled the bouncing body dissipates into guilt and disappointment in herself.

"...You really think I'd do that, Rachel?" Quinn chokes. Her husky voice quivers. A steady stream of tears slip from her shining eyes. Her breath is coming in short shudders, and Rachel can see how hard Quinn is trying to maintain control. The brunette steps forward, and Quinn tugs her wheelchair backwards, as if stung by the Rachel's forward motion.

"Quinn..." Rachel begins to plead. She hadn't meant any of that. All of the confusion overwhelmed her, and she genuinely did not know how to react. However, Quinn would have none of that.

"You're just like him, y'know. Your beloved fiancee. He insisted that the only one I care about is myself. False. I care about myself, sure, but I come in third place. Fifth, if you want to count Santana and Brittany. He said that I have everything. That I'm going to _Yale,_ as if going to Yale would erase all the hell through which I've struggled. He said that all you, Rachel, have is him. Also untrue. You've got a lot more than I think you realize, Rachel. He doesn't think you have _anything _but him. If you believe he's all you've got, you're seriously deluding yourself. And you're seriously deluded for thinking those things about me, Rachel. Even when I was an absolute _bitch_ to you, I still tried to look out for you. Hell, I forced Sue Sylvester – Sue _FREAKING_ Sylvester! – into giving up one of the Cheerios yearbook pages so that you could have a page for glee club! No one else wanted to be in the yearbook for that, no one but you, and I went out of my way so that I could make you happy! I was a bitch to you then, but I still tried to make you happy! So if you _ever_ think I don't care about you, or that I'd devastate you like that, I suggest you remember that you came to _me_ about advice in your wedding. Remember that I really_, really _like you, Rachel, and I tried to fight for you. But you seem to be stuck in this fairyland where all that matters is Finn and getting married to him. Remember that I'm _trying so hard_ to accept you two getting married because you think he makes you happy, even though inside _I'm absolutely dying._"

"Quinn." The blonde halts her rant. It vaguely occurs to her that this might be the most she's said to anyone _ever._ Hazel eyes look upward to meet Rachel's eyes. Both girls are crying, albeit for different reasons. "I had no idea he said those things, and I didn't know about the yearbook, and I am so, _so_ sorry for saying those things..."

"Why, Rachel? Why did you say those things?" The flat tone in Quinn's empty whisper sends shivers along Rachel's spine.

"I... I was scared, Quinn. I still am..." Rachel huffs, looking around for a place to sit. Quinn, noticing Rachel's dilemma, pats her own lap, offering Rachel a seat. Rachel smiles weakly in response. Quinn's arms automatically wrap themselves around Rachel's waist. Likewise, Rachel's arms entwine against Quinn's neck. The position seems intimate– perhaps too intimate for their discussion– but the actions are so rudimentary that neither girl thinks much of it. "Thanks. Quinn, I'm scared of trusting you. I know you wouldn't do anything to hurt me like that, but I... Quinn, I could really fall in love with you." Hazel eyes blink in surprise as a small smile plays on Rachel's lips. "I really could. And I'm scared of falling for you. It's frightening to put all that trust in someone and risk having your heart broken into a million pieces. Quinn, you could put my heart back together from all my own losses– all the heartache and disappointment..." Both girls know that Rachel encompasses her NYADA audition in her list of disappointments. "You could put me together, but you could break me apart."

"Finn can't do that, though?"

"...What do you mean?"

"It's hard to trust me, even though you claim to have forgiven me for my previous attitude towards you. You can't trust me, but you can trust him. What does that mean, Rae? You can trust him because he can't put you together and can't break you apart?" Quinn desperately tries to hold back the hope in her voice. Rachel sighs and rests her head against Quinn's shoulder. The blonde can feel the singer's breath on her neck.

"I suppose so, Quinn. I just... I don't know." The innocence and uncertainty in the normally self-certain diva makes Quinn's maternal instincts heighten. She tightens her hold on Rachel. The diva, in turn, inches closer into Quinn, pressing her forehead to Quinn's neck. The diva smiles faintly at the rapid thud of Quinn's heartbeat. "Quinn, I think I could really fall in love with you..." Rachel whispers into Quinn's neck. The steady, rapid heartbeat skips erratically. Both girls sat in a content silence, entwined together. For the time being, the only thing that mattered was the other woman beside them.

"YO, FABGAY! Quit screwing gay Berry and get your ass on stage! We've got another duet to suffer through!" Rachel jumps off Quinn's lap as Santana Lopez's voice booms through the bathroom.

"Another duet?" Rachel questions, feeling slightly jealous of Santana. Quinn nods.

"Finn will be playing drums, Santana will be singing unabashedly to Brittany, and I will be playing the piano and singing. Singing, may I add, rather abashedly, to a Miss Rachel Berry." Both girls blush at the sentiment. Rachel, bearing the "it's Quinn" smile upon her face, helps Quinn wheel herself out onto the stage.


	3. Chapter 3: What Is Happening Here?

**A/N: **Finn kinda sorta loses his mind here. Santana presents two theories to Rachel about Finn's behavior. I'm leaving it up to you, dear reader, to decide the reasoning for Finn's actions in this chapter.

**A/N 2:** Dedicated to riverkirby for noticing that Quinn didn't say anything about Finn's chair-flipping action earlier on in the episode. Further explanation in this chapter and those upcoming.

**Disclaimer:** Unfortunately, I do not own Glee or its characters. If I did, Faberry would be more in-your-face than Finchel and Klaine combined. Also, the song in the beginning of this chapter is "Good to You" by Marianas Trench, featuring Jessica Lee.

**Word Count:** This Chapter: 1,915. Total: 5,383.

**Take My Breath Away**

**Chapter 3: What Is Happening Here?**

A short, soft piano intro opens the song. Finn is sitting at the drum set, and offers a smile to Rachel. Rachel, however, only sees Quinn, who smiles to Rachel from her place at the piano bench. Rachel smiles back, and Finn, thinking the smile is directed towards him, beams. Quinn inhales quietly as she begins to sing. Her voice is low, soft, and velvety.

_Everyone's around, no words are coming out.  
And I can't find my breath, can we just say the rest with no sound?_

A violinist slips into the song.

_And I know this isn't enough, I still don't measure up.  
And I'm not prepared, sorry is never there when you need it._

Puck, electric guitar in hand, strums along with the chorus.

_And I do want you know I hold you up above everyone._

Santana joins into the rest of the chorus.

_And I do want you know I think you'd be good to me,  
And I'd be so good to you._

Quinn gently croons the next two words.

_I would._

Santana's voice takes the second verse, staring directly into Brittany's eyes. The blonde cheerleader falls a little more in love with the Latina. Santana winks at Brittany, then jerks her head, in a simple, "get over here" motion. The couple stand opposite each other, surrounding Quinn and her piano. Small smiles are shared between the Unholy Trinity.

_I t__hought I saw a sign, somewhere between the lines.  
And maybe it's me, maybe I only see what I want.  
And I still have your letter, just got caught between  
Someone I just invented, who I really am and who I've become._

Both Santana and Quinn sing together, Quinn's voice melding around Santana's.

_And I do, I want you know I hold you up above everyone.  
And I do, I want you know I think you'd be good to me  
And I'd be so good to you._

The two girls harmonize together until they sing:_ I would._ Rachel blushes as Quinn sneaks a glance towards her.

_I do, want you know I hold you up above everyone.  
And I do, want you know I think you'd be good to me._

_I'd be so good to you._

Brittany crosses the piano to nestle into Santana's arms while the Latina croons: _I'd be good to you. I'd be good to you. I'd be good to you. I'd be so good to you. _Quinn's voice takes on a harder, rocker tone as she repeats: _Yeah I would_. The rougher sound sends chills ripping through Rachel's spine.

_I would be so good to you..._

A small smile graces Quinn's face as the song and her voice fades. The applause is thundering, and no one is cheering louder than Rachel Berry.

xxx

"It's okay to be jealous, Rachel." The diva spins around to see Brittany, gazing sadly in the direction of Quinn and Santana, who were near the stage, chatting. "I know Santana loves me. I know she'd never cheat on me. You need to know that, too, Rachel."

"Brittany..." Rachel thinks she knows what the blonde means. "I'm not jealous of Quinn. I know that she isn't interested in Finn, and I know Finn wouldn't cheat on me. Just because they campaigned together doesn't mean–" The brunette's certainty turns to confusion when Brittany laughs.

"No, silly Berry! I mean Quinn! Q and S sang together twice in one night. I know you like her. You like her the way she likes you. It's okay. Just because they sang together doesn't mean they like each other. San likes me, and I like her. Q likes you, and you like her. And Finn... well, Finn likes food. Does that count?" The blonde smiles innocently. _Speak of the devil,_ Rachel thinks as Finn ambles towards them.

"Hey Rach. Do you think maybe we could go to my house, maybe have some after-prom lovin'?" Finn asks, leering. It was almost 10:30, and Rachel was beginning to get tired.

"No, Finn. I don't wish to partake in post-prom coital relations." Her fiancee blinks, Rachel sighs. She had almost forgotten about Finn and his inability to understand vocabulary above a fifth-grade level. "I won't have sex with you, Finn." This, the jock could comprehend.

"Why the fuck not, Rachel? I saw you staring at me during the last song. You loved it! Why won't you love me, Rachel?" The prom king put on his best puppy-dog face, hoping to convince the diva. In truth, Rachel knows that she had been staring at Quinn during the song. She hadn't even noticed Finn, seated behind the blonde. If Quinn hadn't told her earlier in the bathroom that Finn would be playing the drums, she would have no idea what the football player is talking about.

"I just don't feel like it tonight, Finn." Rachel hopes that Finn would be accepting and understanding. He isn't.

"Why the _fuck_ not, Rachel?" Finn's anger boils as he kicks a chair. Quinn and Santana look up in astonishment at the racket. The two cheerleaders exchange a nervous glance, nod, and rush to the scene. Santana steps in front of Brittany, entwining their fingers together. Quinn wheels beside Rachel.

"Rachel, what's going on?" Quinn whispers. Rachel only shakes her head, slightly terrified of the raging boy before her. Finn continues yelling, kicking and flipping chairs until an enraged and hormonal Sue Sylvester comes charging onto the scene.

"That's it, you dolt! Get outta prom! What is your problem, and why do you have a personal vendetta against chairs? Honestly, it's almost as bad as my hatred of Schuester. First you try stealing a wheelchair from underneath a cripple, then you go kicking and screaming like the two-year-old you are, mentally. You can _bet_ that you will be in huge trouble later, Hudson, but for now, _get out!" _she snarls. Finn looks blankly at the coach. Rachel turns to Brittany.

"Brittany, what did Coach Sylvester mean by Finn 'stealing a wheelchair from underneath a cripple'?" Sure, Finn can be irrational, Rachel knows that. But surely, _surely_ he wouldn't go so far as to injure Quinn... _right?_ Rachel's heart sinks when Coach Sylvester, overhearing the question, answers briefly.

"Tree boy here tried to flip Q outta her chair. She could easily have died. Falling in the wrong way, in her condition... who knows what could have happened?" Rachel blanches. _No... Finn wouldn't do that... w-would he?_ She turns to Quinn, who won't make eye contact with her.

"Quinn, is that... is that true?" Shining hazel eyes look upwards, meeting teary brown ones. Brittany answers for Quinn.

"It is. Everyone saw it. He started yelling at her to stand up. Which is silly, since Quinn does things in her own time. Besides, she can't stand up on her own very well. I mean, you saw Santana helping her earlier." The blonde sends a sweet smile to the Latina, who is still glaring daggers into Finn. She tugs on the Latina's hand, and Santana turns to place a gentle kiss to the corner of her girlfriend's mouth. Brittany giggles.

"Yeah. So, gay Berry. Either your hubby is drunk off his ass, or just being an asshole again. You pick which one you like better: violent, drunk Finn or plain ol' mentally challenged and/or deranged Finn. It amounts to the same thing. I feel bad for you, Berry. Getting hitched to that lump? Not your brightest idea, man hands." Quinn's reaction to Santana's statement is instantaneous, cold, and frightening. The blonde pivots as best as she can in the wheelchair.

"_Don't_ call her that," she snarls. The Latina takes a step backward. Quinn sports the "if you do that again, I'll literally kill you" Fabray-face. It's terrifying. Rachel, however, finds the protective and angry Quinn to be really hot. _Wait. What? My future-husband is about to be thrown out of prom, and Quinn... Quinn _is_ really hot..._ Finn's angry retort snaps her out of her Quinn-induced daze.

"Why shouldn't she, _Lucy Caboosey_? You've called Rachel tons of names before. And I happen to know, she has very soft hands. Perfect for stroking–" A menagerie of "ew!" and "dude!" and "shut up!" choruses from the crowd. Quinn doesn't outwardly react. Inside, her thoughts are swirling, but the only indication that she heard the jock is the tightening of her lips. Granted, the only one who is staring at her lips hard enough to notice the change is Rachel. The brunette watches Quinn's lips begin to form words.

"Finn Hudson. I suggest you remove yourself from this area. Immediately." Puck comes forward, as if called by his baby momma to do something, grabs Finn's shoulder, and tries to pull him away from the scene.

"Dude. Much as I appreciate you channeling the great Puckasaurus... don't. I don't want to think of Jew Berry like that, okay? Besides. Quinn can, like, literally kill you. Or at least, ensure that you never have children. It would be really bad for your reputation if you got your ass handed to you by a girl in a wheelchair." Puck tugs on Finn's arm gently, and all hell breaks lose. Finn pivots and socks Puck in the face. Puck stumbles backwards, gaping at him. A collective gasp emits from the gathering crowd. Santana surges forward, snatching Finn by one arm while Sam, who had shoved his way through the crowd in time to see the punch, grasps the other. Puck, regaining composure, aids the two as they hustle Finn out the door, a furious Sue prowling right behind them. The boy cries out obscenities and directs his final words toward Rachel.

"This is all _your_ _fucking fault!"_ His voice echos in the hushed gymnasium.


	4. Chapter 4: Can We Make It?

******A/N:** Props and Nationals were amazing. I just. I had so many feelings. Graduation is next week. There's going to be a Faberry scene in said episode. I can't. I just. I can't.

******A/N 2: **Dedicated to blaze007 for an amazing review on the last chapter.

******Disclaimer****: **Unfortunately, I do not own Glee or its characters. If I did, Faberry would be more in-your-face than Finchel and Klaine combined.

******Word Count****: **This Chapter: 1,897. Total: 7,280.

******Take My Breath Away**

******Chapter 4: Can We Make It?**

"This is all _your fucking fault!"_ The words echo and reverberate in Rachel's mind as she turns and silently runs to the bathroom to cry.

xxx

"He wouldn't hurt you, you know," Quinn says as she wheels herself into the bathroom. "He was drunk off his rocker and way out of line, but he would never, ever hurt you." Rachel sniffles and turns her back to the mirror, resting her hands on the edge of the sink. Quinn methodically reaches for a paper towel, dampens it, and offers it to Rachel. It's a role-reversed scene from last year's prom, and both girls notice. Fingertips brush as the paper towel exchanges hands, and the girls blush as sparks tingle up their arms. Rachel sighs quietly, her breath shaking.

"How do you know that he's drunk, Quinn?" The blonde smiles faintly.

"Santana told me." Rachel turns away from Quinn and watches the blonde in the mirror. The brunette's heart hurt at the thought of Quinn and Santana together. She felt... jealous. _Maybe Brittany is right..._ Quinn continues to speak. "She said that when she was dragging him outside, she could smell the alcohol on his breath. When he was outside, he clung onto Puck and started sobbing hysterically. Something about rainbow monkeys. I dunno. What I _do_ know is that he wouldn't hurt you. He was crude and illogical, sure. But he wouldn't do anything to hurt you." Rachel nods. Quinn's certain and firm voice is reassuring. But then, tears begin to form in the diva's eyes as she remembers the real reason why she came to the bathroom in the first place.

"Quinn, he was right." The blonde looks like she's about to say something, but Rachel barrels onward. "It _is_ my fault. Not about the sex," she adds hurriedly, "about you." This only proves to confuse the blonde even more. Rachel sighs and continues speaking. "The crash." Now, Quinn understands. She opens her mouth to cut Rachel off, but the brunette keeps talking. "If I hadn't been texting you while you drove, you wouldn't have gotten hit. And if you hadn't been hit, you wouldn't be in a wheelchair. And if you weren't in a wheelchair, Finn wouldn't have tried to pressure you into standing when you weren't ready." The diva sighs.

"Rachel, you need to stop beating yourself up about that," Quinn whispers. "It's not your fault. And I know you're going to try and interrupt me and argue, but it's true. Everything that happened was all bad luck. It was bad luck that I got hit. Bad luck Finn saw me 'standing' before I was ready to _really_ stand. It's all just bad luck, Rach. Please, please stop thinking you're to blame. Even if you _were_ to blame, _and you're not,_ I would forgive you. Okay?" the blonde soothes. Rachel is crying quietly– steady tears of joy that Quinn _understands_ and Quinn _cares_ and Quinn _forgives her_, even if she hasn't fully forgiven herself. Quinn pats her lap, asking Rachel to take a seat on her lap again. Rachel complies, and Quin winds her arms around the diva. The cheerleader presses a gentle kiss to the top of Rachel's head, and the diva blushes at the sweet gesture.

"Quinn, you're amazing..." Rachel whispers into her neck. She smiles against pale skin when Quinn's heart skips. "I really could fall in love with you. It's just–"

"Finn. I know. I understand. You're in love with him."

"But I want to give this a try." Quinn gives the diva an incredulous look. Rachel smiles and continues, "I can't explain it, but I find myself comparing him to you every time he and I are together. I'd think of how his huge hands don't fit mine quite right, and I'd wonder if yours would fit better. They do. You smell better than him. Smarter than him. You remember that I'm vegan, and you've done such amazing things for me. I really want to give us a try." Quinn smiles the "it's Rachel" smile.

"I'd like that. But Rachel... Do you think maybe we could talk about all this later? Perhaps... would you like to come over to my house after prom? My mother wants me to return home and rest my legs. Maybe you could stay the night, so we can talk about all this? This kind of thing requires heavy thought," Quinn rambles as Rachel beams.

"I would love to, Quinn Fabray," the diva replies.

"Good. How about... we'll drive to your house, grab some of your things, then go to my house? Does that sound alright?"

"Marvelous," Rachel answers. Quinn nods.

"Fantastic. Now, Rachel Barbra Berry, we have fifteen minutes left of prom. I suggest we go out there and have a good time. Try and put all this drama behind us and enjoy ourselves. C'mon." Rachel rises from her place on Quinn's lap and hurriedly helps wheel the cheerleader out of the bathroom and back into prom. Upon reentering the dance, they are quickly intercepted by Santana and Brittany, who tug them onto the dance floor. The four of them laugh and dance happily. Even Quinn, seated in her chair, manages to have fun. Brittany pulls Quinn aside to dance with her alone. Rachel eyes the two blondes, jealousy bubbling in her chest again. Santana notices, and tries to placate the diva.

"They've been friends since the get-go. Don't be jealous. Britt is hooked on me, and Quinn's hooked on you. You've got nothing to worry about." Rachel nods. Santana, realizing that for a moment, she seemed to care, tries to lighten the mood. "I wish you'd seen the face Finnept pulled when you were called for prom queen. He looked constipated. Well, he always looks constipated, but he was so confused; it was hilarious! And Quinn, well, she was so proud. It was adorable, really." Santana laughs, a hearty chuckle, and Rachel can't help but laugh along with her. Rachel sobers as a thought strikes her.

"Santana... Coach Sylvester said Quinn could have... could have died from Finn's freakout. Was that true? Could Quinn have died?" Santana shakes her head.

"Coach was just being dramatic. Quinn could have been re-injured, but I doubt she'd die. There's no way in hell Q would've let Fetus Face kill her off. Hell no. Q's got a lot to live for."

"Like what?"

"You. Duh. Yale. Beth. Her future," Santana rattles off easily. Rachel asks a question that had been on her mind since Quinn mentioned it.

"Santana, Quinn said that she comes third in importance. Who's first and second?" Santana laughs, as if the answer were obvious. To Rachel, it isn't.

"The answer is obvious. Maybe to you, it isn't. But to anyone who really knows Quinn, it is. You, Berry, are the second most important person in her life." Rachel's emotions conflict. One one hand, she's extraordinarily pleased that Quinn cares more about Rachel than herself. On the other, she felt extremely jealous of whomever takes precedence over her. Santana continues, "The most important person in her life is Beth. So, Berry, can you live with being second to Quinn's _child?_ She loves you. Like, a lot. But Beth will always come first in her mind. You're second, sure, but this is Quinn's _daughter._" Rachel understands. Oddly, she's okay with it. In fact, she realizes that she'd be very disappointed in Quinn if anyone were more important than her child. Her jealousy turns to pride. Her thoughts are interrupted as rhe two girls turn to listen to Mercedes announce the final couple song of the night. Rachel and Santana nod in mutual respect and separate to seek out their favorite blonde, Quinn and Brittany, respectively. Rachel offers a graceful hand to Quinn.

"May I have this dance, m'lady?" Rachel smirks and Quinn laughs. The diva helps Quinn stand up, and provides a strong shoulder on which Quinn leans. The blonde's arms instinctively latch onto Rachel's hips, and the diva entwines her fingers at the back of Quinn's neck. Santana, otherwise preoccupied with Brittany, signals to the New Directions kids, who form a circle around the pair. Rachel understands; Quinn is afraid of being outed without being prepared. Suddenly, Rachel giggles, and Quinn quirks an eyebrow.

"It's just... the height difference. With you, it's perfect. Finn made me feel so small in comparison, but you feel just right." Quinn blushes, and hazel eyes meet brown.

"You are so beautiful, Rachel," Quinn whispers in honest awe. The diva blushes, tips her head upwards and pecks Quinn's cheek. She watches with pride as pale skin flushed pink.

"As are you, Quinn."

"...Do you really think this could work?" Quinn asks. Rachel nods with certainty.

"We won't know until we try, but I know it will. I can feel it." The diva takes Quinn's hand in her own and presses it to her chest, so that Quinn can feel Rachel's strong heart pounding quickly. Rachel's fingers curl atop Quinn's hand.

"I like you, Rachel. A lot." Hazel eyes plead with Rachel, begging her to understand what she really means. The diva realizes that, while Santana and Brittany are certain that Quinn loves Rachel, the blonde is still scared to admit it. Rachel offers her a small smile.

"I like you too, Quinn. A lot." Light blushes adorn both faces. Quinn leans down slowly, and Rachel meets her halfway. Their lips brush against each other gently. Sparks fly from the brief contact. Quinn tilts her head to the right, and lips meet again in a real kiss. Rachel forgets how to breathe. All that matters is that _Quinn Fabray is kissing me. Quinn's lips are on mine. They fit perfectly. They're so soft and gentle and... oh..._ The kiss is gentle and curious. A soft rhythm generates between the girls. Santana and Brittany, resurfacing from their heavy and heated make-out session, catcall to the girls. They hardly notice; they're in their own little bubble, where nothing matters but each other.

They're so engrossed in each other, they don't notice Kurt's rapidly widening eyes.


	5. Chapter 5: What Do We Do?

**A/N:** In my mind, here's how the car situation worked out: Quinn's mother drove her daughter to prom, dropped her off, and left. Since Rachel went to the anti-prom, she had driven her own car. Finn carpooled with Kurt and Blaine. So, yes, Finchel did not ride their chariot to prom together.

**A/N 2:** Dedicated to Cassicio, for reviewing each chapter and encouraging me to write more.

**Word Count:** This Chapter: 1,568. Total: 8,848.

**Take My Breath Away**

**Chapter 5: What Do We Do?**

The seniors gather in a ring and sway gently to the music of the younger glee members singing Vitamin C's "The Graduation Song." Tears are falling freely from the graduating glee clubbers. Santana has her arms around her two favorite blondes: Brittany on her left and Quinn on her right. The latter turns her head to her own right and smiles to a sobbing but smiling Rachel Berry. Mike, slightly tipsy from the spiked punch, sways to the right of Rachel. Kurt, standing across the circle from the four girls, is tight-lipped and clutching onto Puck, to his left. The jock rubs furiously at his eye, insisting that a piece of dirt had clambered onto his face and into his eye, and that these are most certainly _not _tears. The song and prom ends, and the New Directions fall into each others' arms, sobbing profusely.

xxx

"Rachel, I can't drive," the blonde warns. Rachel nods in understanding.

"It's okay. Allow me," the brunette replies. Quinn wheels herself to the trunk of Rachel's car, and, using Rachel as a lever, rises out of her chair. Working together, the pair toss the chair unceremoniously into the trunk and close it with a firm thud. Regardless of Rachel's attempts to be the knight in shining armor by helping her and offering to drive, Quinn still takes it upon herself to hobble to the driver's seat and hold the door open for Rachel. The diva blushes and steps into the car, settling herself into the seat. Quinn, leaning heavily on the car, struggles to reach the passenger side. Huffing a great sigh of relief and pride, she manages to ease her way into the car. The blonde smiles to her brunette counterpart.

"I'm alright. I promise."

"Okay," the diva replies. However, she herself is nervous. This is the first time she's ever been the the blonde's house, and she's not sure how she will be received by Quinn's mother. It feels like she's meeting her girlfriend's parents for the first time, and she wants to make a good impression. The diva jerks up at the sound of Quinn's laughter.

"I know this would be your first time at my place, but my mother will love you, I'm sure. And did you just call me your girlfriend?" Rachel stutters, floundered. _Did I just say that out loud?_ She was met with more laughter.

"Yes, Rae, you did." The blonde giggles girlishly, reaching over the armrest to rest her palm innocently against Rachel's thigh. "Maybe you should drive, Rae." Twinkling, mischievous hazel orbs flick to meet brown ones, which are dotted with some shyness and uncertainty. The blonde squeezes Rachel's thigh in encouragement, and hazel eyes turn serious once more. "It's okay. It's okay to be nervous, Rachel. But I'll be there. I'll always be there. Okay?" whispers Quinn. Rachel nods numbly, and starts the car. They quickly drive over to the Berry residence, where Rachel simply tells the two men that she's staying over a friend's house. (_"Don't get pregnant!" "Daddy, it's a _girl _friend, not Finn!" "Oh. Okay, then. Have fun!") _Rachel insisted that Quinn remain in the car. Not because she was nervous about the blonde meeting her fathers, because she knows that Quinn is impeccably polite and charming when she chooses to be. Rather, Rachel didn't want the blonde to stress her body out by making an appearance. The diva grabs some clothes for an overnight stay, and hurries out the door. Quinn begins to give directions to her own house in the silence that ensues. Of course, since Rachel Berry is present, the silence does not last long.

"Quinn, I'm just worried. I worry that she'll not like me, or that she'll be mad at me for winning prom queen, even though you were the one who rightfully won prom queen. What if she's mad at me for having two gay dads? Or maybe she'll be upset that I'm Jewish. Or maybe she'll think I'm a bad friend for–" the diva gasps. "What if your mother blames me for the car crash? It _is_ my fault, after all. I rushed you when I shouldn't have rushed you. Maybe she'll be mad at me for not visiting you often enough in the hospital or in physical therapy or while you recovered. What if–"

"Rachel." Quinn finally cuts off Rachel's rambling nervousness. The car grinds to a slow halt at the driveway to the Fabray residence. Quinn unbuckles her seat belt and leans over the armrest to press a tender kiss to Rachel's cheek. Rachel blushes, then clambers out of the car to aid Quinn in extracting her tired body from the vehicle. After snatching the wheelchair from the trunk of the car, Rachel follows Quinn inside. The blonde cheerleader settles herself back into her wheelchair with an exhausted sigh, and calls out to notify her mother of her presence in the household.

"Coming!" Judy Fabray returns. She bounds down the steps, and embraces Quinn as best she can, despite the height difference of the wheelchair. "There's the prom queen! Where's your crown?" Quinn clears her throat, wheels herself backwards to reveal Rachel, and presents her elegantly.

"Mom... Rachel Barbra Berry, prom queen. Your Highness, this is my mother, Judy Fabray. I know you taught me the proper way of introducing someone is by introducing the youngest to the oldest, but, Mom, she's _royalty."_ The "it's Rachel" smile adorns Quinn's face once more, and she beams upwards at the shy and blushing brunette. Rachel extends her hand to a slightly stunned Judy, who eventually takes it.

"So, Quinnie... _this_ is the _infamous_ Rachel... Berry," the mother begins dubiously. Then, she perks up and smiles at Rachel. "You must be the Rachel that Quinnie is always raving about!" Quinn blushes, and attempts to cut off her mother from leaking embarrassing information. Regardless, Judy plows onwards. "She talks about you every day. She's been talking about you since around the time... the time that Russel left. You're a shining star, a _gold_ star, in her life. Truly a wonderful inspiration and encouragement to her." Judy smiles at Quinn, who is brushing her bangs off her face, hiding herself with her hand. Rachel only beams at the shy blonde.

"I'm glad I can be so helpful to Quinn. Really, she's been an amazing influence in my life. She's always encouraged me, and always stood beside me. Even when we weren't on friendly terms, she still did nice things for me, and vice versa. We've always had each others' backs, whether we knew it or not." Hazel orbs meet sincere brown ones once again, and the honesty that passes between the two girls is almost palpable. Quinn's mother takes notice of this strange interaction.

"Well, I'll let you two girls have your girl time. Rachel, will you be spending the night here?" The diva nods.

"Yes, ma'am, if that's alright with you?" The older blonde beams.

"Certainly. You're welcome here at any time." Rachel nods her understanding, and the two girls shuffle off to Quinn's room on the same floor.

xxx

At the end of the dance, Kurt tugs Blaine along, pulling them to Kurt's car. Giggling all the way, they drive back home to the house, where a hopefully-sober Finn safely resides. After his meltdown, Puck had driven his best friend home in his truck, and, once he ensured Finn was safe, came back in time for the last dance of the evening. Surprisingly, Puck decided not to throw an after-prom party. He didn't want his friends to get _too _drunk tonight, and he figured that spiking the punch bowl was enough. Judging from Finn's performance, Puck guessed correctly.

Kurt swallows painfully upon reaching the door to his house. He and Blaine enter in silence. Kurt calls out into the house, "Guys? Blaine and I are back!" The couple listen carefully to hear a response. Luckily, they hear Finn's unhappy, hungover grumble resonate throughout the house. They hustle to his room, where they watch Finn's large body mass hoist itself up into a slouched sitting position.

"Hey guys," the jock says wearily.

"Hey, Finn. So guess what, your fiancee was making out with someone else." Kurt's admission causes Finn to jolt into a more awakened state. Finn cradles his aching head in his hands.

"Who?" he murmurs.

"Quinn."


End file.
